


untitled filthy piece of bdsm

by kiddypool



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: BDSM, Cock & Ball Torture, F/M, Flogging, It's consensual, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, The Author Regrets Nothing, Whipping, but maybe not so safe or sane, cock whipping, except litterally, how come cock whipping is not yet a tag ?, i have a kink okay, like 5000 words of pure cock whipping, sue me, tons of cock whipping, werewolves level of self flaggelation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-05-26
Updated: 2020-05-26
Packaged: 2021-03-02 17:34:57
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24380638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kiddypool/pseuds/kiddypool
Summary: - We are going to start easy, she said, and she let him have a good look at a flogger. Not a regular flogger, he realized, it was very small, only a few tails, and they seemed very soft.- Designed for cock whipping, she explained and he darted a look of alarm at her. She smiled benevolently.Somewhere between season 2 and season 3, i guess.
Relationships: Derek Hale/Lydia Martin
Comments: 3
Kudos: 25





	untitled filthy piece of bdsm

It all started because Stiles found his equipment. 

"Ohhhh!" came from upstairs. "what’s' that?" Stiles was shouting excitedly, everyone raised their heads from their pizza. "Derek, I think I found your porn stash!!" 

Scott's eyebrows rose. Isaac guffawed nervously. Lydia repressed a smirk. "Ohhhh" came again "Heyyyy... but that's not... what's this for..." each one quieter and quieter, and then there was silence. Then there was the very distinct sound of heavy chains rattling and falling to the floor. Everyone dropped their pizza and rushed upstairs in a flash. Derek followed with a resigned sigh. As Derek came through the door, Stiles was still frozen gaping like a fish, a manacle dangled in his hands at the end of a long chain. Scott was looking at the content of the box with puppy eyes wide like saucers then back at Derek then back at the content again. Isaac was red as a tomato. Lydia was cataloguing the content with polite interest.

Derek shrugged. "Well. Yeah, when I lived in NY I made money performing at BDSM clubs. Enhanced senses help read people and i was good at it. Ok it's fucked up but it was easy money" Stiles exhaled like he'd been punched. "Sooooo you have experience with THAT... (There was an encompassing gesture)... like... you're like ... what? A professional sadist? That’s what it means? Leather and stuff, yeah? I bet you would find people interested in this stuff too here in Beacon Hill. It is a very valuable skill, right?  
Stiles was babbling away, all flushed and eyes bright.  
-Hey, you could probably open a club here in Beacon Hills, and I m sure there is no competition, and ... 

"No" Derek interrupted simply. "No, I am not going to practice on you, you moronic 17 years old virgin. And stop drooling on my floor. Now put this back in the box and let's get back to the pizza before it’s cold.  
\- I ... I didn’t mean... I’m not drooling! Stiles went on, blushing and flailing  
-And for fuck sake, stop searching for my porn stash, you idiot!" Derek turned on his heels like the incident was closed, Scott and Isaac followed and it all went back to normal for the rest of the evening. Only Lydia didn’t buy it. He could see she didn't buy it. Derek huffed and waited for the inevitable.

She came back later that night. They stood in his loft, face to face. She was eyeing him critically, arms crossed, a finger dangling her car keys. Derek kept his eyes on her, giving nothing.

-So, obviously, she started, that equipment is still in use, as evidenced by the half empty tube of lube and the leather being freshly oiled. And everybody with half a brain would know that you're not a sadist, you're a masochist. So my guess is that you're using it on yourself. You need physical pain, don’t you? Probably to avoid you get crushed by the monumental weight of your self-hatred." She flicked a lock of red hair, like a conclusion to a mathematical equation. Derek shivered.

-You need it. I can provide it. It’s very simple indeed. So let’s do this. Oh, and, by the way, I brought my own equipment so will you please go get it for me in the trunk of my car? And she simply threw him the car keys. Derek grabbed them by reflex and looked at them like a sour lemon he had to eat. Then he nodded and went.

He came back, and dropped the container in the middle of the room. Then she asked him to bring his own box too, so he went to get it and dropped it next to the other one, and looked at her for instructions.

She eyed him like a clinical sample to be tested.  
-Undress, she said simply.

She gave him a sleazy smile as he bared himself entirely, shucking his shirt then his pants and finally his underwear in front of her.  
-I love werewolves, she mused. You have a very high tolerance for pain; yours maybe even higher than Jackson and you're super flexible. So I know exactly what I want to do. I assume you're fine with restraints? She asked as she retrieved a heavy leather harness from her box. -Do you trust me, Derek? He nodded stiffly.

-We're going to use the coffee table, it seems sturdy enough.  
She threw several coils of sturdy red rope on the floor next to it.

She moved around him, fitted the harness around his chest, Derek noted several rings for restraints along the leather. She buckled it tight but his breathing wasn't restricted. Then she found in his box his own ankle cuffs, and buckled them, but left his wrists free. 

-On your back, she gestured at the coffee table. Derek went, watching her wearily. She positioned his body transversally in the middle of it, his back was on the table but his feet were still on the floor. She moved him around a bit, nudged his shoulders up, until his head was not supported by the table at all. When she was satisfied, she used ropes to fix the harness to the table, until his torso was completely and effectively immobilized. He was going nowhere anytime soon, unless he ripped the harness or broke the table.

She fixed his ankles to the ends of a stretcher bar and looped each ankle cuffs to a long sturdy rope. She moved the ropes above the table, then back under it, and looped them loosely through 2 rings on the sides of his own harness.

Finally, she pulled the bar up, asking him to raise his feet above his torso. To follow her lead, he had to bend in half, with the spreader bar above his head. When she was satisfied with how far he was stretched and bent, she tensed the ropes and secured them with knots to the harness. She added 2 more ropes to link each ankle to the feet of the coffee table so he could not move left or right either. The knots were well made. Watching her work, quick and sure, Derek wondered where her experience was coming from. Did Jackson ask for this? Aiden?

If he raised his head, Derek could see his own feet hovering above each corner of the coffee table, restricted by the cuffs, the ropes and the spreader bar. There was a pretty good amount of tension, and very limited give. His knees were half bent, but he could feel the stretch, and the tension behind his thighs would probably soon become pretty painful. 

With his spread legs, and head down, the position also gave Lydia full access to his throat, nipples, belly, crotch and ass, to look and to touch. It was humiliating, but also a position of absolute vulnerability and there was an undercurrent of submission for his wolf in here somewhere. Submitting to a human always felt worse, more degrading somehow. Derek thought she calculated this. He shivered hard and felt heat pool in his belly at the same time.

Now when she moved around the table above his head he had an inverted view of her, he could see her skirt and her breasts and beyond that her face: she was smiling down at him. Then suddenly he felt her nails scratching, quick on sensitive skin, and he tensed against the tickles, but there was nowhere to go. Her hand moved quickly to his inner thighs, behind his knees, to the exposed sole of his feet, to his belly, and he contracted and grunted and tried to evade it to no avail. The ropes probably only tightened more. She checked the knots, seemed satisfied and moved away out of his field of vision.

Derek heard a rummage of objects being moved around and several objects being deposited on the table. He hauled his head briefly and saw that she was now behind his back, hovering above his cock and balls. She smiled maliciously and showed him a fat metal ring. It seemed heavy and constrictive. He exhaled and let his head fall back. 

She gave his raised ass and thighs a quick caress, like a reassuring pat to calm a horse. She moved her dainty fingers around the fine dark hair on the inside of his thighs, then moved his cock to the side and followed down onto his belly, scratching at his pubes and down his happy trail. He was chubbing up already in anticipation. Moving back up she took his balls in hand and started moving them around, gathering and rolling them, squeezing this way and that, pulling up taut then releasing them several times, and finally she pushed them through the cold metal ring, one after the other. Derek was fully erect now. Couldn’t help it. 

With an effort he raised his head and looked at his balls: they were gathered and pushed up vertically by the ring, an inch above his ass, like an offering. This was undoubtedly heading in a very painful direction.

I underestimated her, Derek thought, wondered if he would be able to handle her after all. Did he trust her? Sure, if he wolfed out he could probably still break the coffee table and escape... They had not even discussed a safeword.

Is it still time to discuss a safeword once you've been trussed up like a turkey for Christmas? Would she act smug and contemptuous if he admitted to his fear? (... like someone else, supplied his traitorous mind, don't think about her, don't...)

-Hey, she said, and she came next to him and crouched, pulled on his hair to force him to look her in the eye. Hey. What's the problem, Derek?  
-Safeword, he muttered through gritted teeth.  
-Sure, well, simple color code, yellow to discuss, red and I will stop entirely. Are you ok with that? He nodded and he felt himself relax again a little bit. He felt grateful that she was so perceptive. The ring was still pressing and stretching his balls, not massively, but still, it pulled, and a dull discomfort was spreading in his lower belly, keeping him aware, in the moment.

She pulled him by the hair to force his head up and grabbed something from the table.  
-We are going to start easy, she said, and she let him have a good look at a flogger. Not a regular flogger, he realized, it was very small, only a few tails, and they seemed very soft.  
-Designed for cock whipping, she explained and he darted a look of alarm at her. She smiled benevolently. Then she put it back down and took an other one, and this one was a leather strap, also very small, she flicked it in the air so that he could see it was slightly flexible. This one would have much more sting.  
She bent, put her lips to his ear confidentially and he could feel her breath in his ear as she murmured:  
-Also designed for cock whipping.  
And he shuddered, let a whine escape. She hummed contentedly. 

She put it back on the table too, let go of his head and stood back up. She reached for his cock, gave it a quick tug. She rubbed the slit with her thumb, finding precome. He closed his eyes at the sensation.  
-You're very wet already, how come you are so wet already? She sing-songed knowingly and her clever fingers followed the trail of precome soaking his belly. We will have to wax you sometime, she mused, as she moved her wet fingers to his lips, painting them with his own precome, absently. Waxing one’s genitals can be very painful, you know, especially since your balls are pretty hairy... You’d love it. But not today.

She took a step back, and shimmied out of her skirt as he watched her attentively; she shucked her panties too but kept her bra. She had a very nice mound, trimmed nearly naked, with just a little bit of light red hair at the top, the rest was bare white skin, it looked soft as a peach. She dropped a couple of cushions on the floor, and when she knelt down on one knee and kept the other leg bent, he was exactly face to face with her cunt, only inverted. She pushed herself further on his face, adjusting her position to give him access. He could still breathe, but with his nose right in her folds, her smell was everywhere around him. He gave her an experimental lick, along her labia. She gave his cock another tug, and it jumped enthusiastically (like a puppy dog, he thought, and snorted mentally. His cock had always been too easy to tame). And he dutifully started to lick.

-I'm wet for this too, Derek, you know? She said. It's been a long time for me. You understand the game, right? I will hurt you. You will get me off. We're not stopping until I’m satisfied. Ohhhh, I like your beard! She said genuinely surprised, and she grabbed him by the hair again, encouraging him to rub against her cunt. He applied himself to find his way around this like a weird 69, trying to understand what pleased her, licking and sucking, when he felt a sudden pinch to his nipples. 

Now that he was where he needed to be, lost in the folds of her pussy, Lydia had time to concentrate on the rest. She started by tormenting his nipples with both hands, pulling one, twisting the other, scratching and pinching. Derek only tensed and paused a second before resuming licking away at her. She smiled when she saw both nipples erect and reddened. They would be receptive now. She took the leather strap and gave a good slap to the left nipple. Derek gave a choked huff of surprise, panting against her cunt. She targeted the right nipple, gave it a nice slap as well, and then waited. She punished each nipple in turn, but at a lazy pace, alternating randomly, progressively building the strength, not rushing. She could feel him sucking more urgently and moaning in her mound with every hit. Then with her other hand she gave a light slap to his balls. 

She could see his thighs tensing reflexively in an attempt to protect his balls, but he had no way to close his legs or protect himself in this position. She gave one more hit with the strap to the right nipple, a heavy one that would sting for good, and then backhanded his balls, two quick slaps, catching his left ball then the right one. Derek raised his head reflexively in pain and choked his nose in her cunt, forgetting to breathe for an instant. She waited a moment until he recovered then slapped resolutely again his exposed ballsack eliciting another uncontrolled muscle contraction. Slap. Wait. Slap. Whip a nipple with the strap. Now also putting a bit more sting in her handslaps. He didn't have time to relax anymore between hits, muscles straining to get away, get away, get away, and getting nowhere, beads of sweat on his belly and thighs. He spent more and more time panting in pain, uncoordinated, forgetting about licking anything. It was time for a respite. 

-Lick, she reminded him.

He made up for it by furiously licking and sucking at her clit. She moaned and rocked her hips gently on his face. He was good at this. She switched the strap for the flogger and started whipping his inner thighs, left, right, left right, fast and hard, with an easy practiced flick of the wrist. When both thighs were a nice pink color and trembling, she stopped and her left hand went back to slapping leisurely at his balls, also left and right, sometimes lightly, sometimes to really hurt. His whole body convulsed against the restraints with every hard hit but he kept licking. 

His tongue was clever and she was close now, so she stopped slapping to grab his hair and push his mouth against her. He eagerly kept eating her out to completion. She felt the ripple of her orgasm and moaned.  
-Yessss, keep your tongue there, yes, good, push your tongue against it, that's good, give me more.

He was quick to obey, kept glued to her labia, his sight and smell limited to her cunt, and he was trying so hard to extend her orgasm that he might have forgotten that she still had the flogger in her right hand, so she cautiously moved away from him a little before the next hit because she didn't want teeth. With vicious precision, she hit the flogger full force on the head of his cock. 

He shouted and jerked, trying to curve his body in a ball, even his toes contracted protectively at each end of the spreader bar, but the restraints wouldn't let him, all his efforts only served to sway his ass in quick motions, and dangle his cock attractively. She took the opportunity to dish a punishing series of lashes at his unsuspecting anus, a quick succession of heavy hits, making it spasm and contract.  
-You...!!! He sputtered and his eyes flashed blue.  
-None of that, she said, and placed one more targeted hit right on his cockhead, full force again, in the exact same spot and this time he howled and struggled uncontrollably. The table creaked and splinters appeared. Fangs appeared then disappeared. He took a breath, trying to calm down and spat: -You said, until you were satisfied!  
-Yes, I did. She looked down at him, answering his furious eyebrows with cold boredom, and resumed lashing at his hole, quick efficient flicks layering pain easily, and he squirmed again this way and that, grinding his teeth.  
-Sa-tis-fied! She spelled, each syllable punctuated with a heavy lash of the flogger. His poor hole now looked properly chastised, all puffed and inflamed. She waited a moment while he tried to recover his breath.  
\- And do you think I am? He looked at her in a daze, uncomprehending.  
-Satisfied? She repeated pointedly. He gave her a long look from below, all worked up and panting, and his mouth twisted.  
-Maybe not, he admitted.

Which is when she raised the flogger pointedly, and he braced, gritting his teeth, knowing full well where this one would land. She took her time to aim carefully, with concentration, and struck for the third time right on his cockhead again. The flogger clacked noisily. He took it with a deep grunt and the coffee table creaked dangerously.

She grabbed his cock in her left hand, and pushed her thumb possessively where she had hit. It was red and hot to the touch, fevered even for a werewolf.  
-Tonight I’m dishing the pain and you’ll take whatever I decide to give, alright?  
He whined as she gathered his precome to spread it over the sting of the flogger. She looked him in the eye, and he was full of anger at first, stormy and promising retaliation. And then he caved, let his head drop. His cock was still rock hard in her small hand. She gave him a quick squeeze, let it go, and briefly caressed his exposed throat with the tips of two fingers. She could feel him shudder.

-Try to relax, ok. Remember, you're supposed to enjoy this. And by the way, if I see any more hint of claws or other, you will regret it. Also, she said like an afterthought, it won’t be that easy to get me off now, so I suggest you use your hands too.

He seemed to realize only now that his hands were clasped like claws on the sides of the table that he did claw and mangle a little bit. He relaxed his hands and slowly stretched his arms above his head. Like this, he realized he could put his hand around her hips. One hand wandered to her breasts, but she slapped him down. He moved his fingers over her hips and behind, reached with both hands for her ass, parting her cheeks in a light massage, an index reaching in her cleft, teasing touches, all anger forgotten.  
-That's better, she said, mellowed, as he tried to pull her back towards his face.

Instead she bent sideways to rummage amongst objects on the table and came back with a pump of lubricant. His pump of anal lubricant, Derek realized. She gently took each of his hands and coated all his fingers with it, not leaving him with any doubt about what to do next. He stretched his arms again, reached one hand to her ass and one to her cunt and delicately slipped a finger in each hole. She went back to smother him in her folds and he resumed licking with a huff.  
-That's it, Derek, yes. I want to enjoy your pain, alright? I’m sure you can make me come some more.  
She heard his muffled acknowledgement from below her thighs.

What he was doing to her right now was very delicious, so she took her time to consider the next step. His cock could take more, she decided. It was a very nice cock, heavy, a good size and that cock loved pain and thinking how much torture she would be able to lay on it made her all wet and bothered already. But she needed to restrain herself first and let him build some resistance. 

So instead, she started again on his inner thighs, this time with the strap. The skin was already nearly entirely healed. She started hitting easy with the strap, then with more and more strength, and she didn’t stop until both thighs were all red again, each marked with a series of dark parallel stripes. Then she switched for the flogger and applied it to the base of his cock, right under the cockring. She didn’t hit hard. She kept each hit balanced, moving progressively up along the shaft. He was moaning and licking religiously as she dished the lashes. He contorted his arms to find the best position to please her inside too, rubbing her inner walls and stretching her hole with 2 fingers. She smiled. He was perfect. As she continued whipping his cock systematically from base to tip, she started to add in a few light hand slaps to his balls, in synch with the flogger. 

His tongue would tense on a heavier hit, then retreat, then come back twice as more diligent on her clit. When his balls had reached a deeper shade of pink, and his moans took on a desperate tone, she stopped with her hand and started to give it the flogger instead. She started alternate the flogger between his cock and his balls, building a rhythm. Slap, Slap, cock, balls, cock. She kept building it a little bit harder every time. He kept lapping fervently and focused on pleasing her. Slap. Slap. Louder and louder whines escaped him, vibrating against her labia as hits became more and more intense, and his feet would jerk and his toes would suddenly tense up, even though he was not really struggling against his bonds, or his lips would wobble on a cry, or his fingers would slip and loose control in her cunt. She decided to give his cock and his balls a respite, turning instead towards the sensitive sole of his feet. She gave both a good lashing. He complained loudly but didn’t try to escape the pain she gave him anymore.

If she had enough time with him, she realized she would be able to teach him to offer himself for the whip without restraints, with his complicit participation. She had a flash of Derek, on his knees, legs spread wide, willingly pushing his balls forward with both hands as an offering for more punishment. And a flash of Derek whipping his own cock with a crop, in front of her, his face contorted, tears in his eyes, herself lazily instructing him not to forget the cockhead. Her clit throbbed and she soaked his face in her slick some more at the thought.

Once both feet were thoroughly marked, she switched the flogger to her left hand and grabbed the strap from the table. By the sound, he must have realized she now had both implements in hand. He tensed and she felt him stop breathing against her cunt. She tried to keep the first hit of the strap at the base of his cock as light as possible, but it was still a high impact tool. His next moan was a shout. She took particular pleasure in the tremors that followed.  
-Lick, she ordered calmly. He whined and we went back to licking.

She kept it up, working the strap to his cock, slowly from root to top, taking her time. At the same time she also started to lash lightly at his thighs, balls and hole at the same pace with the flogger, spreading pain carefully to the whole area, using the flogger and the strap in synch. Derek was past trying to evade or resist, he was just trembling and getting uncoordinated in pleasing her, and more and more vocal to express pain. Sometimes the sting just took his breath away for a moment. She kept it carefully within a range of manageable pain, until the strap hit his cockhead. He shouted harshly and let out a series of pained cries.

That's the threshold, she thought and so she paused, time for a respite. She however decided to leave the strap on his cock, letting him feel the leather rest against his beaten cockhead. She felt him give a tremor at the touch, at the implication. To know it had unlimited access to his most sensitive place, painfully inflamed. That he was unprotected against her will. 

She knew she had to stop using the strap at this point, but even as she restrained herself, there was a dangerous part of her that wanted to keep hitting him, torture him way beyond what he could accept, until his cock was bloody and ruined, until he was a writhing mess of absolute pain, irreparably beyond healing. Of course, she would never give in to this dark thing, this monster that always wanted more. She wouldn’t give in, but she knew it was there, and she knew if Derek saw its appetite in her eyes he wouldn’t trust her anymore.

But he was aware of the danger anyway. He used his fingers and his tongue to push her higher towards orgasm with absolute concentration, trembling at the feel of the strap resting here against his straining cock, as if his whole universe had shrunk to her cunt and the strap and nothing else mattered. And she felt herself slipping into the pure pleasure of her power over him, and his pain willingly given, tipping towards her orgasm. She felt it a long way away from inside her, drawn out, like a wave. 

He sucked at her clit with abandon, moaning a plea, and she couldn’t repressed a punched out cry of pleasure as she came, and she allowed herself to rain the flogger all over him again, quick light lashes hitting randomly everywhere, as she rubbed herself against his lips and chin, drawing out her contractions against his tongue.

When she was done, she pushed back and crouched in front of him. He looked entirely messed up and wild, covered in her juices, spikes of hair in disarray. She grabbed his hair and gave him a long filthy kiss.  
-Do you hurt? He blinked back at her and nodded.  
-Can you take more? She asked. He mouthed please, no more, please, can't.  
-But, do you want to come? She asked. He moaned at the suggestion. But he also looked at her with sudden anxiety. He wasn't that far gone that he didn't realize the way the question was formulated. He nodded warily.  
-I'll make you come but it's going to mean more pain too. (Give me this, Derek, I want more, she thought, but she didn’t say it)  
He gave her a pleading look then caved and nodded. She smiled and kissed him again. 

-Ok, then. I want you to watch yourself come. 

She went and retrieved a different type of harness, one that went over his skull, designed to restrict movements of the head. She bowed his head up so that he had a direct view on his own cock and balls. He whined in disbelief as he saw the dark purple color in his balls, and the painful stripes decorating his cock. She fixed the harness to the rings on his chest.

She went rummaging in the equipment and came back up to show him an other toy before she started to lube it. It was his own prostate massager. Even pulsing with residual pain, his cock twitched in agreement. She pushed a lubed finger in him, located his prostate, let the pad of her finger glance around it very lightly, causing him to close his eyes and relax entirely, then she pushed the toy in and settled it right against the nub. Next, she showed him a Hitachi wand then vanished it from sight.

She moved behind his head, standing above him, slightly on the left side.  
-Ready? She said and gave his cock a light flick of the flogger. He gave a shout and tensed in his bonds. She dug her nails in his inner thigh to stop him.  
-Take it, Derek, I'm going to make you come and in return I want you to give me every moan and shout and plea you can form. Tell me how much it hurts, cry and howl but I want to see you take it, not fight it. 

She delivered a series of delicate lashes with the flogger, all over his length, as softly as she could and he tried to be good, even though he could feel the pain radiating to the end of his toes. Pain pain pain. Her left hand moved to the prostate massager and she activated it, and the sensation washed over him, overlapping the hurt. 

She started again; root to head, light hits, and at the same time she moved her left hand to caress his sack lightly, his balls were really sore but her touch was light and delicious and that caused another flood of pleasure mixing with pain in his system, and the pain muted into something else. 

He could see how his own cock was being tortured, red and leaking, and the flogger come down again and again, and he moaned raggedly at his own pain and his own lust. He couldn't stop the string of high pained cries, coming out of his mouth with each hit, shameless. His balls hurt, his cock hurt. With ever hit, his squirming would push the toy against his prostate, a tease. He was also rock hard, a mess of endorphins and nerves. He felt like he was moaning inarticulate pleas, asking for god knows what, please stop, please more, he wasn’t sure. His cock was in flames but Lydia kept flogging him mercilessly, and she kept massaging lightly his balls, and the massager kept buzzing and triggering his sensation that he was about to ejaculate. He was overwhelmed, tense, suspended over his release. 

But he was also conscious of her presence, and how much she was enjoying this. He heard the buzz of the wand and realized it was strapped to her leg and pushed against her clit. He looked at her, the obvious pleasure she took with every hit to his beaten cock, every cry out of his mouth. And she looked back at him and:  
-Oh. You're crying! she realized and suddenly she bent double with bliss, she was coming against the wand and she threw the flogger away and touched his dick, rubbing her fingers along the red stripes, and his cock jolted and he heard himself shouting inarticulately, as he felt himself coming, pulse and pulse and pulse like there was no end to it. She squeeze her hand delicately around his dick, dry and painful, and she drew his orgasm a few seconds longer, making the pain flare along his length, wringing the last drops of come on his pectorals, and then finally she let him rest. 

He was barely conscious as she unknotted the ropes, lowered his legs, and took all the leather off his body. She pushed water into his mouth, cleaned it and moved him around, and he felt the relief of a cold wet towel wrapped delicately around his cock and balls at some point.

He woke up the next morning rolled into his own blanket, on the floor next to the coffee table. There was a bottle of water which he took, and aspirins which he didn’t take. He watched the cracks in the coffee table as he gulped the water. That would not be easy to explain. She was gone. But it was not over. He felt clear and light like he hadn't in a long time. Might as well buy a better table.


End file.
